Dilution 1/?
Rating: R (for drugs and language)
Note: A/U. Bosco is a druggie, and doesn't work for the 55, Mikey is dealing and using. Faith and Fred are divorced. Mercedes is Bosco's brother, and works for the 55 and is partnered up with Faith. I love Fyre for letting me use Mercedes. 333's to her.
His eyes and fingers searched desperately for a vein. A blue vein, popping up from the skin, in his arm, in his leg, his chest, on his foot, anywhere. His eyes caught the blue shinning through his pale skin like a ghost, and his eyes lit up. Picking up the needle, he felt his whole body relax. He needed this high.
It was later that night, around nine-thirty when he found himself wandering down the slick streets of NYC. It was raining, but not quiet pouring out yet. He felt himself shiver, but the cold wasn't bothering him all that much. He was still buzzed, and was now drenched from head to toe in rain water. He tried to remember where he was going and why, but couldn't think of anything. Smacking his head, he remembered. The precinct. He was going to find Mercedes because he couldn't get into his own apartment. He'd lost the key, and the landlord wasn't going to give him another one – he was evicting him to be exact. He'd lost his temper, and slammed his fist through the wall. His knuckles were bleeding still, the water mixing with his blood, diluting it.
Bosco walked into the precinct, his feet sliding along the ground because he couldn't quite pick them all the way up yet. His head was pounding, and his stomach hurt. His hand sent messages of pain to his brain, and his blood dripping onto the floor, along with the water that was dripping from his clothes and hair.
When he walked in, Officer John Sullivan looked up, and shook his head. How two kids in the Boscorelli family turned out to be druggies, and the other one turned out to be a cop, he didn't know. He looked over his shoulder to where Mercedes and her partner Faith Yokas were coming back from locking a guy up.
"You got company." He told Mercedes, his voice flat and void of all emotion but annoyance.
Bosco grinned stupidly at Sully, "Nice to see you too, Fat Guy." Bosco told him, glancing at his sister.
"What the hell happened to you?" Mercedes asked, quickly running up to him, grabbing his hand and examining his fist.
"Oh. That." Bosco said, looking at his hand. "Wall. Land Lord."
"You punched your Land Lord?" Mercedes asked, worry entering the expression on her face.
"No. No. Land Lord...evicted me." He said, "He wouldn't give me my key, and and, and he said I couldn't stay there anymore, and I had to get my stuff out by like...next year or something."
"You got kicked out?" She asked her brother, dropping his hand and shaking her head. "You can never stay in one place for more than a month or stay clean for more than a day, can you?" She asked him.
"Am now."
"Ya, how many fingers am I holding up." She asked, sticking up her middle finger.
Bosco laughed, "One!" He told her. "Bad. Bad, Mercedes. Hand gest...gestures like that are NOT nice." He looked over at Faith, and looked her up and down, checking her out.
Faith rolled her eyes, having been through this before with him, ever since he'd heard that she was divorced from Fred now.
"Lookin' nice, Officer Yokas." He told her, a sly grin appearing on his face, his features suddenly turning charming. If she didn't know how much trouble he was, she would probably go for him.
Instead, she whacked him upside the head, and turned him towards the locker rooms. "Lets go get you cleaned up before your sister kills you, Bosco." She told him, winking at Mercedes. She knew that for Mercedes, having to take care of Bosco and Mikey when they were high was like taking care of a screaming baby. You wanted to slap them and kill them, and bury them in a deep whole in Jersey.
Mercedes silently thanked her, and turned towards the desk, planning on calling the Land Lord from the complex her brother had been kicked out of, and find out when she had to have his stuff moved by. She saw Swersky coming out of his office, and put a fake smile on her face.
"Was that your brother?" He asked her, eyeing her suspiciously.
"Nope."
"I'm sure. He starts another fight here like he did last week, the next time he steps foot in here again with out handcuffs around his wrists, he's going in lock up."
"Got it." She said, plastering a smile on her face and turning away from him when he left again.
She remembered last week all to well. Her brother had come in, high on ecstasy she was guessing, he never told her, mostly because he didn't remember, and she really didn't care. The only thing she knew was that her boyfriend, Ty Davis, had told him that she didn't want to see him then, because she hadn't. Early that week he had slept over at her apartment and broke the kitchen table, and got high in her bedroom. So naturally, Bosco hearing someone tell him that he couldn't see his sister, met his fist with Ty's face.
Mercedes had come out just in time to see her brother take the first swing, and watched as Ty tackled him. Her brother was strong though, hours of weight lifting and drugs on his side, he starting beating on Ty – which was why he wasn't at work that day. He was still off he was so sore and bruised up. Not to mention the fact that Bosco had broken the cops wrist. Swersky wasn't there, and Ty had lied and said that he had went for Bosco first when he said something not-so-nice about his ancestry. Mercedes was just glad that Ty liked her enough to not press charges against Bosco.
In the locker room, Faith had gotten Bosco to sit down the bench. She ran a towel through his hair, roughing it up, giggling slightly when she pulled the towel away. His hair was sticking up in a million different directions. She walked over to the sink, and wet the towel some more, and sat down next to him.
His eyes met with hers, and he was silent as she picked up his hand and dapped the cut on his knuckles with the green towel. "You have pretty eyes." He told her, swallowing hard.
How he managed to turn on the Joe-Cool act like turning the lights on and off, she didn't know. "Thanks." She told him, "You got a nasty cut here. You should probably head down to the hospital."
"No. No. No Mercy. Cede would try to get me to stay."
"Which would probably be good for you. She cares about her, she just wants you to...Get better. Not use."
Bosco shrugged, "Shit happens."
"Doesn't have too."
"I used to be in the academy you know." He told her, which made her ears perk up. She wasn't sure if he was telling the truth, Mercedes had never mentioned anything about it. She never really mentioned all that much about him, or why she always put up with him. She just said that she owed it to him, but would never get into more detail than that about it.
"Really?" She asked.
He nodded, "Ya. With Cede. We used to go..um..together. Together." He told her, his face looking like he was going back in time, trying to remember the distant memory. "She wanted to go, but Ma didn't want her to. So I said I'd go too."
"Well, that was nice of you."
"Ya. But then..." He shook his head, "Wasn't smart enough to make it." He pointed to his head, shaking his head. "Wasn't smart enough..."
To Faith, he seemed dazed, "So because you couldn't be a cop, you decided to do everything that they were against?" She asked him.
Bosco shrugged, "Mikey was in trouble...I helped him out a little. Things just happened."
"I'm sure." She told him.
He hissed in pain, pulling his hand away from her as she pressed the towel to his knuckles. They weren't bleeding so much now, and he smiled meekly at her. "All better."
"You're shivering." He looks at me like I'm stupid, like what I just said couldn't have been any more pathetic. "Umm..." I get up and turn to my locker, spinning the lock and opening it. I look at him, his body, his fragile, thin, body. He's probably skinnier than me, his eyes sunken in, dark circles under them. "I have an extra street shirt you could probably fit into." I tell him, "Says NYPD." I pull out the navy blue shirt, and turn to him.
His shirt is off his body, and I cannot help but look at him. His skin is white, pure white, ghastly white. He has a little muscle, but my gaze fall to his arms. My eyes see red lines of anger etched into his skin. Lines that are deep, not just scratches from a metal object, but deep, dark, red lines. All etched up and down his arms. Some are bigger than others, and I find myself reaching out to feel them. I lightly run my fingers down a scabbing line, and his hand tightly wraps around mine. I look up into his eyes, is cool, calm, deep blue orbs. I feel him pressing my hand onto the scar, and I see his jaw clench a little. I try to wither away, but he holds onto me tighter. I see his Adams apple bob as he swallows, and presses my fingers harder against his skin.
A sick smile comes across his face, "I don't mind the pain." He tells me, "I like it. That's why Mercedes wants me to get help. She doesn't care about the drugs, the heroin, the ecstasy, anything. The only thing she cares about, is me not trying to kill myself, or hurting myself anymore. Ever wonder why she's not so concerned about Mikey?"
The truth is, I have. I just figured it was a favorite thing, something she owed him.
"It's cause I do this, and he doesn't." He lets go of my hand, and I pull back, stepping a few paces away from him. He holds out his arm, looking at the strawberry markings. I see him smile, a laugh come from his throat as he drops his arm again and takes the dry shirt from my hand. "She's afraid that one day she'll come home, and I'll already be dead."
Rating: R (for drugs and language)
Note: A/U. Bosco is a druggie, and doesn't work for the 55, Mikey is dealing and using. Faith and Fred are divorced. Mercedes is Bosco's brother, and works for the 55 and is partnered up with Faith. I love Fyre for letting me use Mercedes. 333's to her.
His eyes and fingers searched desperately for a vein. A blue vein, popping up from the skin, in his arm, in his leg, his chest, on his foot, anywhere. His eyes caught the blue shinning through his pale skin like a ghost, and his eyes lit up. Picking up the needle, he felt his whole body relax. He needed this high.
It was later that night, around nine-thirty when he found himself wandering down the slick streets of NYC. It was raining, but not quiet pouring out yet. He felt himself shiver, but the cold wasn't bothering him all that much. He was still buzzed, and was now drenched from head to toe in rain water. He tried to remember where he was going and why, but couldn't think of anything. Smacking his head, he remembered. The precinct. He was going to find Mercedes because he couldn't get into his own apartment. He'd lost the key, and the landlord wasn't going to give him another one – he was evicting him to be exact. He'd lost his temper, and slammed his fist through the wall. His knuckles were bleeding still, the water mixing with his blood, diluting it.
Bosco walked into the precinct, his feet sliding along the ground because he couldn't quite pick them all the way up yet. His head was pounding, and his stomach hurt. His hand sent messages of pain to his brain, and his blood dripping onto the floor, along with the water that was dripping from his clothes and hair.
When he walked in, Officer John Sullivan looked up, and shook his head. How two kids in the Boscorelli family turned out to be druggies, and the other one turned out to be a cop, he didn't know. He looked over his shoulder to where Mercedes and her partner Faith Yokas were coming back from locking a guy up.
"You got company." He told Mercedes, his voice flat and void of all emotion but annoyance.
Bosco grinned stupidly at Sully, "Nice to see you too, Fat Guy." Bosco told him, glancing at his sister.
"What the hell happened to you?" Mercedes asked, quickly running up to him, grabbing his hand and examining his fist.
"Oh. That." Bosco said, looking at his hand. "Wall. Land Lord."
"You punched your Land Lord?" Mercedes asked, worry entering the expression on her face.
"No. No. Land Lord...evicted me." He said, "He wouldn't give me my key, and and, and he said I couldn't stay there anymore, and I had to get my stuff out by like...next year or something."
"You got kicked out?" She asked her brother, dropping his hand and shaking her head. "You can never stay in one place for more than a month or stay clean for more than a day, can you?" She asked him.
"Am now."
"Ya, how many fingers am I holding up." She asked, sticking up her middle finger.
Bosco laughed, "One!" He told her. "Bad. Bad, Mercedes. Hand gest...gestures like that are NOT nice." He looked over at Faith, and looked her up and down, checking her out.
Faith rolled her eyes, having been through this before with him, ever since he'd heard that she was divorced from Fred now.
"Lookin' nice, Officer Yokas." He told her, a sly grin appearing on his face, his features suddenly turning charming. If she didn't know how much trouble he was, she would probably go for him.
Instead, she whacked him upside the head, and turned him towards the locker rooms. "Lets go get you cleaned up before your sister kills you, Bosco." She told him, winking at Mercedes. She knew that for Mercedes, having to take care of Bosco and Mikey when they were high was like taking care of a screaming baby. You wanted to slap them and kill them, and bury them in a deep whole in Jersey.
Mercedes silently thanked her, and turned towards the desk, planning on calling the Land Lord from the complex her brother had been kicked out of, and find out when she had to have his stuff moved by. She saw Swersky coming out of his office, and put a fake smile on her face.
"Was that your brother?" He asked her, eyeing her suspiciously.
"Nope."
"I'm sure. He starts another fight here like he did last week, the next time he steps foot in here again with out handcuffs around his wrists, he's going in lock up."
"Got it." She said, plastering a smile on her face and turning away from him when he left again.
She remembered last week all to well. Her brother had come in, high on ecstasy she was guessing, he never told her, mostly because he didn't remember, and she really didn't care. The only thing she knew was that her boyfriend, Ty Davis, had told him that she didn't want to see him then, because she hadn't. Early that week he had slept over at her apartment and broke the kitchen table, and got high in her bedroom. So naturally, Bosco hearing someone tell him that he couldn't see his sister, met his fist with Ty's face.
Mercedes had come out just in time to see her brother take the first swing, and watched as Ty tackled him. Her brother was strong though, hours of weight lifting and drugs on his side, he starting beating on Ty – which was why he wasn't at work that day. He was still off he was so sore and bruised up. Not to mention the fact that Bosco had broken the cops wrist. Swersky wasn't there, and Ty had lied and said that he had went for Bosco first when he said something not-so-nice about his ancestry. Mercedes was just glad that Ty liked her enough to not press charges against Bosco.
In the locker room, Faith had gotten Bosco to sit down the bench. She ran a towel through his hair, roughing it up, giggling slightly when she pulled the towel away. His hair was sticking up in a million different directions. She walked over to the sink, and wet the towel some more, and sat down next to him.
His eyes met with hers, and he was silent as she picked up his hand and dapped the cut on his knuckles with the green towel. "You have pretty eyes." He told her, swallowing hard.
How he managed to turn on the Joe-Cool act like turning the lights on and off, she didn't know. "Thanks." She told him, "You got a nasty cut here. You should probably head down to the hospital."
"No. No. No Mercy. Cede would try to get me to stay."
"Which would probably be good for you. She cares about her, she just wants you to...Get better. Not use."
Bosco shrugged, "Shit happens."
"Doesn't have too."
"I used to be in the academy you know." He told her, which made her ears perk up. She wasn't sure if he was telling the truth, Mercedes had never mentioned anything about it. She never really mentioned all that much about him, or why she always put up with him. She just said that she owed it to him, but would never get into more detail than that about it.
"Really?" She asked.
He nodded, "Ya. With Cede. We used to go..um..together. Together." He told her, his face looking like he was going back in time, trying to remember the distant memory. "She wanted to go, but Ma didn't want her to. So I said I'd go too."
"Well, that was nice of you."
"Ya. But then..." He shook his head, "Wasn't smart enough to make it." He pointed to his head, shaking his head. "Wasn't smart enough..."
To Faith, he seemed dazed, "So because you couldn't be a cop, you decided to do everything that they were against?" She asked him.
Bosco shrugged, "Mikey was in trouble...I helped him out a little. Things just happened."
"I'm sure." She told him.
He hissed in pain, pulling his hand away from her as she pressed the towel to his knuckles. They weren't bleeding so much now, and he smiled meekly at her. "All better."
"You're shivering." He looks at me like I'm stupid, like what I just said couldn't have been any more pathetic. "Umm..." I get up and turn to my locker, spinning the lock and opening it. I look at him, his body, his fragile, thin, body. He's probably skinnier than me, his eyes sunken in, dark circles under them. "I have an extra street shirt you could probably fit into." I tell him, "Says NYPD." I pull out the navy blue shirt, and turn to him.
His shirt is off his body, and I cannot help but look at him. His skin is white, pure white, ghastly white. He has a little muscle, but my gaze fall to his arms. My eyes see red lines of anger etched into his skin. Lines that are deep, not just scratches from a metal object, but deep, dark, red lines. All etched up and down his arms. Some are bigger than others, and I find myself reaching out to feel them. I lightly run my fingers down a scabbing line, and his hand tightly wraps around mine. I look up into his eyes, is cool, calm, deep blue orbs. I feel him pressing my hand onto the scar, and I see his jaw clench a little. I try to wither away, but he holds onto me tighter. I see his Adams apple bob as he swallows, and presses my fingers harder against his skin.
A sick smile comes across his face, "I don't mind the pain." He tells me, "I like it. That's why Mercedes wants me to get help. She doesn't care about the drugs, the heroin, the ecstasy, anything. The only thing she cares about, is me not trying to kill myself, or hurting myself anymore. Ever wonder why she's not so concerned about Mikey?"
The truth is, I have. I just figured it was a favorite thing, something she owed him.
"It's cause I do this, and he doesn't." He lets go of my hand, and I pull back, stepping a few paces away from him. He holds out his arm, looking at the strawberry markings. I see him smile, a laugh come from his throat as he drops his arm again and takes the dry shirt from my hand. "She's afraid that one day she'll come home, and I'll already be dead."